


Unsteady

by marvelouskatie



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy pretends to loathe him but really doesn't, F/M, Pre Relationship, Slow Burn, Tumblr Prompt, Witty Banter, bit of Hurt/Comfort, bit of angst, loki has a begrudging fondness for Darcy, they're both idiots and should just realize why they feel the way they do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-14 17:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5751094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelouskatie/pseuds/marvelouskatie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After S.H.I.E.L.D. secrets are revealed via Natasha's info dump, Darcy finds out a long buried truth about her past. Angry and hurt, she finds comfort from the least expected source. Loki, of course, knows a thing or two about secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In my request for Tasertricks prompts, concavepatterns suggested one based on Unsteady by X Ambassadors. I played the song a few times and started writing. Then scraped what I was writing and started writing something new…and this came out. I used a Darcy trope I’ve noticed in a lot of other fics as inspiration (don’t want to say what it is and give the small plot away). Another pre-relationship, which I’m just into now because I want MORE slow burn Tasertricks stories. I need to feel the UST and begrudging friendship between them!!!
> 
> I also can’t seem to help writing things that sort of could possibly be continued, even if they’re meant to be one-shots. C’est la vie :)
> 
> Enjoy!

The S.H.I.E.L.D. info dump was big. HUGE. It rocked the world harder than Wikileaks. Blurred the line between good guys and bad guys. No one quite knew where the line was anymore. It made it hard to know who to trust.

Darcy thought that she and Jane were safe from the long, dark arm of the spy world. She didn’t imagine they would get swept up in the fallout. They were Team Science. They dealt with the aliens, the hard to explain, the intergalactic threats to their world. It was easier to fight monsters than power hungry humans. There was less of a gray area…most of the time.

Darcy didn’t think her life or her privacy would be effected by the S.H.I.E.L.D. files made public. She didn’t have any secrets to hide, aside from the ones her NDA refused to let her reveal. She was just a girl, a Poli-Sci major, a sidekick to to a sidekick of Earth’s mightiest heroes.

It turned out she was wrong. She did have a secret. Only it wasn’t her secret. She was the secret. A secret that was supposed to stay hidden. Her true identity was revealed along with the rest of the heroes and villains of the world.

“Darcy!” Jane called after her as she burst from the lab. The news on the television echoing against the linoleum, barely covered by the squeak of the swinging door. “Darcy! Wait!”

She rounded on Jane, vibrating with a dangerous mix of anger, confusion, and hurt that was reaching critical mass. “Swear you didn’t know!”

Jane’s eyes went wide, stunned by the force of her statement. “Of course I didn’t know. How could I have known?”

Thor was right behind Jane and Darcy’s gaze went to the God of Thunder, her eyes repeating the question. “Darcy, I assure you, I had no knowledge of this matter.”

She wanted to feel relieved that they hadn’t hidden the truth from her, but in all honestly she almost wished one of them had. Then she would have had someone in her direct vicinity to unleash her wrath on.

Tears brimmed in her eyes as she flicked her gaze to the final member of their small group. Always on the fringes, Loki lingered by the lab door, either unwilling or unwanting to encroach on the soap-opera worthy scene.

She locked eyes with him for a moment, far enough away that she couldn’t really make out his expression. Her face hardened and her eyelids slammed shut. “I can’t deal with this right now.”

Darcy spun and continued toward the lift that would take her up from their underground lab, to the sprawling mansion above. She wanted her bedroom, even if it was a stark reminder given who paid for the home and everything it it.

Stark.

She cringed at the word. The name.

Jane  tried once more to follow. “Darc–”

“Don’t,” she snapped cutting her off. Jane fell back, hurt evident in her pretty brown eyes. Darcy knew it wasn’t Jane’s fault it wasn’t anyone’s fault. A part of her felt bad because she knew her friend just wanted to help, but there was anything the astrophysicist could do. “I need to be alone right now.”

Darcy pushed the button to call the lift and heard Thor say to Jane, “Just give her some time. She will be alright.”

“I could kill Stark,” Jane swore, letting Thor put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her back into the lab.

The couple moved past Loki, who remained in the doorway, silently watching the young lab assistant escape into the elevator. The doors slid shut and he just managed to catch the way her face crumbled, falling into her pain.

“Don’t they have anything better to talk about?” Jane demanded. “Like, I don’t know…Hydra corrupting our government?”

It was idle gossip, Loki knew. A move made by whoever was in control of the pieces of this great game. The revelation had served as an excellent distraction to the real problem presented by the information overload.

The commentator on the news channel continued to drone on about the gossip. A picture of Darcy–a screen capture from the battle of London–and the news ticker announcing :S.H.I.E.L.D. Secrets: Ironman’s Daughter, Cover-Up Revealed!”

Loki slipped away from the lab and headed to the ground level of the facility. The mansion had been his home since just after the Dark Elves had attacked London. However, calling the sprawling house “home” was being generous. Prison was more accurate. In his haste to escape an Asgardian cell, Loki had made a deal with Thor. He helped him save Midgard and his precious Jane, in exchange for freedom from Odin’s punishment.

They’d faked his death and managed to conceal him on Midgard. He’d wound up in New Mexico of all places. The problem being, he couldn’t leave. The moment he did, the magic concealing him would break, and Heimdall would see him. The All-Father wouldn’t be far behind.

Loki almost admired Thor for his trickery. It was a worthy turn at double-dealing, that Loki was disappointed he didn’t catch. In his grief over Frigga and pursuit of revenge against her killers, Loki hadn’t realized that for all the love his once-brother claimed to bare him, Thor wouldn’t let him go to roam the galaxies freely.

Unknowingly, Loki had traded one prison for another.

Though the mansion held none of the grandeur of Asgard, he knew it was a luxurious home by Midgardian standards. There was space to work and live and breathe, room for the four inhabitants to move and exist freely without ever running into one another.

However, evasion wasn’t Loki’s goal at the moment.

He found Darcy easily enough, in the kitchen. The echo of the kettle clanging against the stove gave her away, followed by a few muttered curses and one pointed sniffle.

Loki didn’t say anything, instead letting his footfalls announce his presence, exaggerating the sound just a bit so that she would notice him.

“Jane–” She stopped, when she saw it was his presence joining her, instead of her friend’s. Confusion passed over her features before she turned her attention back to the task of boiling water on the stove. “Look, I’m not really in the mood to be mocked right now.”

“I’m not here to mock,” Loki said coming to stand at her side. She was attempting to hide herself from him and he wished to get a read on her true feelings.

“I’m serious, dude. This subject is off limits.”

Darcy and Loki had their squabbles, their trade of barbs and quips, volleyed back and forth at one another with such skill that most spectators of their verbal sport were left in the dust, trying to keep up. Nothing he said every truly seemed to penetrate the steel skin of this particular Midgardian female. Though she was easily riled, she wasn’t so easily broken or manipulated. Perhaps that was why Loki had developed a begrudging fondness for the girl. Not that he would admit it.

Her hands fumbled with the box of tea bags she’d retrieved from the cupboard. Loki plucked it from her fingers, to assist her with opening and selecting a tea bag. His sharp nose caught the sense of chamomile and lavender. He passed the bag to her and Darcy dropped it into the empty mug with a muttered thanks.

“So,” she said, “is this the part where you tell me you know exactly how I’m feeling?”

Her face was drawn, a veritable fortress against anything she might be feeling, which spoke volumes in itself. Loki knew her to be incredibly expressive in regards to any emotion she felt, whether elation or anger. The light of her eyes, the twist of her mouth, the lift of a brow read like words on a page.

“I wouldn’t presume to know how you feel,” he lied. “I barely know a thing about you.”

Her lip twitched at that and she focused on her cup, nails drumming against the ceramic. “No, but you know what it’s like to find out that your dad isn’t your dad. That your family and your past aren’t what you thought they were.”

She was trying for flippancy, but her words betrayed her. Loki tilted his head to the side. “Perhaps we can find a small planet for you to conquer? Low resistance, of course. A realm where the inhabitants are barely crawling out of caves.”

“Ha! Right!” Darcy laughed. “Maybe I can start an intergalactic war, too.”

“Now, let’s not be hasty. It takes centuries to hone the strategical skill that one must possess to properly meddle and manipulate Midgard’s mightiest heroes.”

Darcy grinned for a moment longer at their banter, before her face slid back into sadness. “Tony Stark’s Long Lost Love Child,” she said, repeating the moniker they’d all heard on the television news. “I’ll never be anything else ever again. Thanks to S.H.I.E.L.D. I’ll only be remembered in history as Darcy Lewis-Stark. Tony’s illegitimate, dirty-secret daughter.”

The kettle began to hiss and Darcy turned to retrieve it. Loki caught the shine in her eye as she moved away. He stood in silence, as she pulled the boiling water away from the burner and poured the steaming liquid into her mug. As she set it back down, her hand hit the hot metal, and she drew it back with a sharp hiss.

“Ow! Fuck!”

Loki was at her side in an instant, pulling her burned hand into both of his, examining the injury. Her skin was pink with heat, his thumb hovering over. Darcy’s brows came together in a frustrated V shape.

“God damn it!” She shouted, throwing her uninjured arm out and purposefully backhanding the mug of tea from the counter. It cracked and crashed against the tile floor, liquid spilling everywhere. Her chest moved up and down with a decided intake of breath and she lifted her eyes to Loki’s face. “That felt kind of good.”

Loki understood what she needed. Because he did know how she felt. He knew the sense of betrayal and hurt that ran so deep, the only thing that one could do is destroy. The only cure for that kind of hurt was to make someone else or something else feel just as horrible and worthless.

The God of Mischief and Lies held her gaze but released her hand and reached up to open a cabinet, pulling down another ceramic mug. Darcy, lost in the depths of his jade eyes, only saw the twitch of his arm before hearing the crash of the mug against the tile. She flinched.

“What the hell are you–” he stopped her question, shoving a glass into her hand. It was a wine goblet. One in a matching set of eight. Darcy looked up to question him again, but Loki watched her stop herself, realizing what he meant for her to do.

She turned and threw the glass away from her, staring as it shattered against the wall. Loki was already handing her another glass as she spun back to him. This time, she took it and threw it with less hesitancy than the last. He followed the two wine glasses with another mug and then a plate.

Loki kept passing her dishes and Darcy kept throwing, until she was moving away from him, pulling out her own breakable selections, throwing them at the ghosts only she could see against the wall. Strained curses and vows spilled from her lips.

The dishes within her short reach ran out but she continued, grabbing other things to break. A vase filled with roses, the coffee maker, a decorative glass bowl of fruits. Her tirade of destruction circled the kitchen, increasing in ferocity as she ripped through the room like a tornado.

Loki stood watching, protecting her from injuries due to broken glass with his magic, letting her vent and yell as much as she needed. He recalled his own destructive tirade, in the cells of Asgard. The damage he’d done in that tiny place, rage and grief his only friends.

Darcy stopped suddenly, her wild hair in her face, breaths puffing out and moving it across her chin. She examined the contents of room, the wake of her destruction, the floor littered with broken things. Not much survived. Loki almost made a quip about her courtesy of leaving the knives in the butcher’s block, but stopped himself at the sight of her quivering lip.

He rushed forward as she tipped, allowing her to crash into his arms in an inelegant heap on the floor. The sobs came, shaking her whole body, bitter and loud.

It wasn’t beautiful in the slightest. Her tears were ugly, her nose red, her hurt fresh and real. Loki had no skill at comfort, but she held onto him, fingers gripping his arms, and cried into his chest. He hadn’t planned this part. He’d only wanted to encourage her to let out her anger instead of ignoring it. His actions were being driven solely on buried instincts.

Scooping her up into his arms, Loki carried her forth from the kitchen, and up the stairs. Darcy barely registered the movement, too tired from her tantrum. He toed open the door of his bed chamber and placed her down on top of his forest colored sheets. In the sixty seconds it had taken for him to carry Darcy to his room, she was fast asleep.

As usual, his curtain were drawn, only allowing small slivers of light to slip into the otherwise darkened room. His throat tightened, seeing her pale skin glowing in the darkness. He reached out and removed her glasses, setting them on the bedside table. Her cheeks were smacked with crimson and black smudges of makeup smeared on the outer corners of the closed eyes.

He didn’t know why he brought her to his chambers to rest, instead of her own. Perhaps he had the forethought to hide her away, give her more time and space away from Jane and Thor. They wouldn’t think to look for her in his room and she would be free to seek them out when she was ready.

Whatever the true reason, he wouldn’t examine it too closely for the time being.

He placed a hand over her soft curls, pushing hair away from her tear-stained face, his thumb caressing the edge of her cheekbone. And then he was gone, leaving her to sleep away her anger and hurt.

.

.

.

.

Darcy awoke some time later in an unfamiliar space. Obviously she was on a bed, but it wasn’t her own. She pressed her nose into the pillow, smelling cardamom and cedar. The drawn curtains, the sheets silken, comfortable woven with green and gold. Loki had taken her upstairs. She vaguely remembered being cradled in his arms before she’d fallen asleep. Her last fleeting thought, amidst all the angry I-hate-Tony-Stark thoughts, was how weird it was to have a bitter and evil god carrying her up the stairs like a princess.

Even if he was bitter (most of the time) and evil (a little less of the time), she still owed him a thank you. And maybe an apology. She hadn’t meant to lose her shit in front of him like that. It had felt good, though. Breaking things. Destroying something. Making the kitchen look the way she felt inside.

It was a little embarrassing to remember the way she’d fallen apart in his arms. She never let anyone see her cry, least of all him, but she couldn’t help it. He was there and something just told her to let it out. A look in his eye. It wasn’t pity, it was permission. An agreement that whatever happened would stay between them.

The feelings of hurt and betrayal dampened with the outlet of her anger and the nap. She looked at the clock and realized she’d been asleep for three hours. It was almost dinner time.

Now she felt prepared to deal with everything. She felt prepared to talk to Jane about the news of Tony he her real dad and maybe, just maybe, take steps to face the man himself. Darcy knew Tony wasn’t the most forthright when dealing with problematic situations. She’d have to be the mature one in this scenario. The thought made her chuckle, just a little.

There was no sign of Loki as Darcy slipped from his bedroom and headed down the hall. She gave an internal groan, wondering if Jane had happened upon her mess in the kitchen. She really didn’t want to deal with the fallout of breaking all of her friend’s favorite mugs. Maybe she could get it cleaned up before Jane noticed. Maybe there was a chance that a huge science emergency happened while she slept and Jane had been locked away in the lab downstairs all day.

“Hey, you’re awake.” Jane was standing in the kitchen, her voice soft and cautious.

Darcy’s mouth fell open in surprise.

The room was spotless. No sign of breakage or glass. No chipped paint on the wall where she’d repeatedly smashed ceramic mugs. The coffee maker was in perfect, spotless condition. The vase of roses that Thor had surprised Jane with–the same one that Darcy hurled into the air just hours ago–sat in the window, soaking up the setting sunshine.

She blinked in disbelief, spotting the pizza boxes on the table. Thor handed a plate down to Jane from the top shelf.

“How do you feel?” Jane probed again. “Sorry, that’s the worst question. Look! I got pizza. Pineapple and bacon, your favorite.”

Darcy stepped forward. Maybe she should pinch herself, to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. There was no way the room would have been cleaned already unless…

Loki.

There was no other explanation. Loki had used magic to clean everything, to repair everything she had broken, to hide every trace of her breakdown.

“Jane has procured supper,” Thor was saying. “And I’ve selected some of your favorite visual stories in effort to cheer you.”

Jane elbowed her obtuse boyfriend in the rip–which at her height just hit him at the hip. Darcy grinned. “Movies, big guy. They’re called movies.”

“Ah,” Thor said. “Yes.”

“Pizza and movies sound great you guys. Thanks.” Darcy joined them, taking a plate and helping herself to four slices of cheesy goodness. “Um, where’s Loki?”

“I’m here,” Loki responded from behind, causing Darcy to jump and turn around.

She watched his eyes, trying to figure out if what she thought happened, really did happen. Did Loki, eternal thorn in all their sides, actually help her deal with her anger issues? Loki? Who was infamously known for not dealing well with anger, like, at all?

“There’s pizza,” Darcy tried, attempting to sound normal. Her breath stalled.

Would everything change between them now that he had shown a little sliver of his humanity to her? Was she supposed to be civil to him in light of this new side of him she’d seen? For some reason, she didn’t want things to change. They worked because they got on each other's’ nerves so damn much. With all the other things about her life rapidly changing, she hated the thought that their love-hate non-friendship would change.

Loki sneered. “I abhor Midgardian fast-food.”

He swept from the kitchen, disappearing. It was too bad he didn’t still wear the grand cape that accompanied his Asgardian armor. It would have added a nice touch to his snobbish dismissal of their dinner. Darcy rolled her lips together to hide a relieved smile, mouthing a silent “thank you” that everything appeared to be status-quo in their non-friendship.

Jane rolled her eyes and Thor let out an apologetic sigh. Darcy waved it off.  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” she replied, hoping Loki was still in earshot. “It would be weirder if he was treating me nice because of this whole thing. Can you imagine?”

Darcy gave a playful, exaggerated shiver at the idea of a nice, caring Loki and Jane chuckled.

It felt a little mean, shaking off his kindness. Darcy still didn’t understand why he cared to even console her or why she appreciated it so much. But a silent agreement passed between them just moments before, when they’d locked eyes in the doorway. Neither would question it and neither would speak of it.

Loki wouldn’t reveal her break down and Darcy would keep the secret of him actually being nice.

.

.

.

That evening, three friends sat together, two cheering up the third. They ate pizza and watched movies. Darcy trying to explain references and jokes Thor didn’t get, scolding Jane for spacing out and thinking of science stuff, while she was supposed to be paying attention.

Loki hovered in the shadow of the door, watching the scene, listening to Darcy’s laughter and voice. She would be alright. She was stronger than anyone gave her credit for, himself included. He’d regarded her for just another insipid mortal when they’d first become acquainted, but somehow she’d proved to be much more.

He knew difficult days were coming for Darcy. Now that the world knew who she was, she would become a larger target for enemies both large and small. There were those that would try to hurt the girl, knowing who she was, and her value to the Iron Man. Loki’s fist clenched, a misplaced instinct to protect washing over him.

She wasn’t his to protect. Leave that to the heroes, Loki certainly wasn’t one of their lot, and never would be. Loki was the God of Mischief and Lies. He did not concern himself with mortals and their petty games of war and power. All that mattered was getting out of his prison and exacting his revenge upon Odin and the others who had stolen what was rightfully his.

Still, the thought of harm coming to her rankled. Of not hearing her annoying laughter, or seeing the flash of her sharp blue eyes, or listening to her incessant rambles about facets of Midgardian culture that didn’t truly matter.

Her eye caught his, but when she looked again, Loki had disappeared, heading back to the privacy of his bed chamber. Tomorrow, Darcy would plan. She would confront Stark head on, the girl was no wilting flower. She may have ran from her hurt and anger at first, but the Darcy he knew, would turn and stand and fight.

Loki smirked as he mounted the stare. A showdown between Tony Stark the Man of Iron and Darcy Lewis, the Taser Queen. That was something he just might like to see.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the lovely comments for the last bit! Because of you love and encouragement, I decided to add another parts! A few notes at the end...but I hope you enjoy because this is for you guys! xoxo

It was late afternoon when Loki made an appearance in the labs. He saw no real reason his presence was required, but he went for lack of anything better to do. Without enemies to vanquish or worlds to conquer, Midgardian life was insufferably boring. Jane Foster was away, attending some sort of astronomy conference that he didn’t care about enough to garner any sort of specific details and Thor was away, dealing with the fallout of the recent collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Is it your first day or have you just been living under a rock for the past week?”

Darcy’s unmistakable, dictatorial tone drifted into the hallway. His mood lifted, wondering what poor lab drudge she was ordering about that day.  

She’d recovered from the shocking secrets of her parentage rather quickly, once she realized that her status as Stark’s daughter afforded her some power in getting others to do as she said. Jane admonished her for her bossy behavior and Darcy insisted that she would only have so long to take advantage of her position, until people began to realize that Tony Stark didn’t actually care about her. 

“You know that’s not true,” Jane had responded with what Loki thought of as a patronizing look of sympathy. “He cares about you.”

Darcy didn’t face her, simply flicked her brows up and responded, “Remains to be seen.”

Her voice grew louder as he rounded the corner into their designated laboratory. She was in her usual lab wear, which was opposite of what the other scientists donned. While they kept to standard white coats, Darcy, just like Foster, preferred a more casual style. Leggings, loose sweaters and shirts, her hair always tumbling around her shoulders instead of tied safely away from her face and work area. 

The young girl had her cellular phone tucked between her shoulder and ear.

“Let me spell it out to you,” she said to the phone. “I am Darcy Lewis A-K-A Tony Stark’s Secret Love Child...so put me through to someone who can put me through to him! Immediately!”

Darcy exhaled dramatically and threw a lofty smirk in Loki’s direction. 

He returned it, amused to see her in better spirits. “I see our little pep talk last night convinced you.”

“Whatever, I was going to call him anyways, I’ve just been busy. Science doesn’t sleep, ya know? At least...not until I hide her coffee and force her to take a nap.”

Without Jane or Thor around for the past few days, Loki had become the unfortunate ear to which Darcy complained that Stark had yet to reach out to her, citing that while she was an adult, she was the child in the scenario and thus, absolved of making a first move. He allowed her a full twenty-four hours of childish venting before he made the very mature and subtle move of challenging her bravery. 

“You’re afraid of rejection,” Loki had told her. “There is no reason you shouldn’t head Stark off at the pass. The longer you wait, the more he could play the victim, in the same way that you are attempting. If you approach first, you’ll look like the bigger man..or woman, as it is.” 

Darcy’s jaw hardened in that way that happened when she didn’t want to back down and admit Loki was right. He counted her lack of rebuttal and hasty retreat from the common room as a victory.

He was glad to see her that morning, moved from her proverbial corner, and coming out to play. 

“I thought about what you said,” Darcy explained, switching the phone to the other ear while she was on hold. “You’re right. If anything, first move gives me gloating purposes for life and makes Tony look like a tool if he tucks tail.”

“I apologize, I’m not fully awake, but did I hear you admitting that I am right?” Loki grinned. “I do hope our trusted AI captured that moment for posterity. Shall we have him replay the security feed now to relive the rare occurrence?”

“Oh ha, HA,” Darcy scrunched her nose at him. “Bite me.” 

“Only if the lady insists.” Loki hadn’t meant to let flirtation leak into their banter, but it had. The drop in her mouth and the change of heat in her blue eyes marked that the lust and dark promise within his reply had not gone unnoticed.

Her jaw worked up and down as her brain searched for a reply. “Uhh-yeah? I’m here.” She cleared her throat, shifting her attention back toward her cellular. Loki straightened his posture, leaning up and away from Darcy, shaking out the momentary lapse in his behavior. “Don’t put me on hold aga--damn it!” 

She turned back to Loki, wide eyed, pointing at her phone and trying to communicate some message to him by slicing her finger across her throat and growling. He waved a bored hand and turned his attention to his work for the day. 

Normally, she would have been bothering Jane with her girlish dramatics, but he had somehow become her stand in friend. He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about their changing relationship. He was much more comfortable throwing verbal barbs and looking down his nose in her direction. It was simpler to keep those around him at a distance, especially when they were allied with Thor.

Another part of him knew he was lying to himself. That he took secret satisfaction in being in her grace and confidence. It was the same part that recalled with relish the feel of her in his arms as she cried or when he carried her up the stairs to his bed.

Quickly, he made a list of the things he loathed about her. First and foremost she was Midgardian. A lowly mortal human. She was also loud, crude, and an insufferable. She possessed a near non-existent brain to mouth filter and usually whatever popped into her head immediately spilled from her mouth. 

“Yeah, this is Miss Lewis, listen whoever you fucking are---oh! Miss Potts. Shit! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say fuck or shit and...now I’ve said both. Twice.” 

Loki’s lips twitched. Crude and uncouth, just as he thought. He bent his head down to focus and let Darcy’s conversation drift into background noise.

.

.

.

.

Darcy hadn’t ever met Pepper Potts, but the woman sounded nice over the phone. Sweet, yet firm. She apologized to Darcy for Tony, which Darcy realized had probably been something like 90% of her job when she’d still been his assistant. She promised that she’d get him to fucking man up and go out to New Mexico to meet her properly. Only she said it a lot more politely and without the f-bomb.

Once the conversation between the two of them ended, Darcy sat back at her high top desk, and stared at her phone. She worried her lip with her teeth, wondering what it would be like to actually face her father. 

Her father. Ugh, she couldn’t think of him like that.

Darcy didn’t know Tony very well. He and Thor didn’t get along like Thor and Steve got along, so they didn’t hang out much. She’d met him when they first arrived at the Super Secret Science Compound, when he’d toured them through the labs, bragged about the state of the art tech, and explained to them how it would work like the Avengers’ own version of Area-51. 

She rolled the scenes of their brief meetings back in her head, trying to remember if he’d ever check out her boobs. Most heterosexual men did. Considering that she’d develop hard and fast, she’d gotten used to the knee jerk reaction from dudes pretty early on in life. The quick glance didn’t bother her, it was the lingering eyes that tended to make her want to fire her taser straight into their balls.

She groaned, dreading the idea that Tony may have ever checked out her assets.

Then she realized the even bigger question, did Tony know about her in the first place? She hadn’t thought of that yet.

“Could you please cease the incessant grumbling?”

Darcy looked up at Loki, who was flipping through a book, his long fingers turning the page with an air of boredom. She rolled her eyes at his pompous ass.

“Oh, I’m sorry? Am I bothering you?” 

“No, but the motivation behind your noises are entirely transparent,” he said, deigning to look up at her. “You want me to ask you about whatever troubles you.” 

She didn’t actually, because she hadn’t realized she was making noises, but he’d unknowingly thrown out bait and she decided to bite. Normally, she might not have been willing to unload on Loki, but he did surprisingly well at making her feel better the week before. Their little venting session did a hell of a lot more for her than pizza and movies had. 

“I can’t decide if I want to hit Stark when I finally see him or…” 

“Or…?”

“I don’t know. He’s my father, but he’s not my dad,” she said. “My parents adopted me when I was a baby. My dad was Jim Lewis. He taught me how to throw a curveball and took me roller skating and he died from stupid cancer when I was fifteen.  I knew my real mom my was his sister, that he was actually my uncle but…” 

“What do you know of your mother?”

“Her name was Amanda. She and my dad were twins. She was an actress, but she made bad decisions,” he made air quotes around the two words. “He never really specified what ‘bad decisions’ meant. I guess Tony Stark was one of them.” 

Loki closed his book and walked around to her table. “I cannot argue with that assessment.”

Darcy let out an amused snort. “I lived with my grandparents for three years, but I wasn’t close to them. Then I turned eighteen and went to college on scholarship and my dad’s life insurance and didn’t look back.” 

“And now you’ve made quite a life for yourself.”

“I’ve done alright,” she admitted. “Still...I wonder if all that time, if Tony knew I was out there. Alone.” 

“Perhaps he didn’t know.”

“Perhaps he did.” She countered.

“Would you have accepted him if he came forth at that moment of your father’s passing? To replace the man that you’d lost?”

Darcy opened her mouth, a stubborn retort on the tip of her tongue, but she stopped herself, her shoulders dropping down. “You’re right. I could play these hypotheticals in my head over and over, but it doesn’t really matter. What’s done is done and what happens going forward is what matters.” 

“Do my ears deceive me?” Loki teased. “Twice in one day that you admit I’m right. What have I done to deserve such an honor?”

“You’re such an ass--” Darcy shoved his chest, but Loki snatched her hand, yanking her forward and causing her to stumble into him, her neck craning to stare up at his face. It was a pose worthy of Scarlet O’Hara and Rhett Butler. Darcy swallowed under the force of his piercing blue eyes.

Something zoomed through her, heating her body from her head to her toes, as she stared his heated gaze. His lips parted and she thought for a moment that he meant to kiss her. Which was insane. Loki wasn’t going to kiss her. They could barely stand each other.

Was that true though? They’d been spending more time together, Darcy felt an urge to trust him more, to get to know him and he had helped her with her little identity crisis.

She curled her fingers over his, her other unconsciously sliding to his chest. Later she would swear she saw him lean toward her but--

“Miss Lewis.” 

Darcy tore back from him at the sound of F.R.I.D.A.Y.--the compound’s AI-- disembodied voice.

“I apologize for interruption,” the lilting female voice continued. “But I must inform you that Mr. Stark is inbound.” 

“Inbound?” 

“Yes. His ETA is approximately three minutes.”

“ETA?”

“Estimated time of arrival.”

Darcy shook her head. “Yeah I know what ETA is...I’m just--he’s here? Pepper said he was hiding out in his workshop.” 

“Yes, he left New York early this morning, without Miss Potts’ knowledge, to make an unannounced visit.”

“Holy fuck,” she whispered, eyes flicking back up to Loki. She knew she was developing a bad habit of looking to the god for reassurance, but for the moment he was her only option. “Remember when you mentioned conquering a planet?” Loki gave a single, slow nod. “Offer still on the table?” 

His mouth curved. “Say the word and we’re off to the farthest realm imaginable.” 

With a single smile and turn of phrase, Darcy decided that Loki wasn’t so bad. He could have berated her for being weak and pathetic at wanting to run, half of her was doing just that already. She knew better, she was a person and feeling a normal reaction to the fact that she was about to face the man who was her real father for the first time. It wasn’t going to be easy.

She squared her shoulders and jutted out her chin, faking confidence that she didn’t quite feel. “Alright,” she nodded. “Let’s get this over with.” 

.

.

.

.

The first meeting was awkward enough. It was obvious Stark was trying to be humble in the face of his newfound daughter, but it was hard to pull off when he descended onto their grounds in a private helicopter, wearing a $3000 suit. 

As it turned out, he was not entirely aware of Darcy’s existence as his daughter until the S.H.I.E.L.D. files had been revealed. How they’d come to know when he did not was, to put it one way, disconcerting.

Loki did not wish to impose on their confrontation, but a protective urge caused him to remain the periphery of their meeting, just in case Darcy needed him. The thought was absurd. She did not need him and Loki certainly did not wish to be needed. Still, his feet followed and his eyes remained observant. He meant what he said; should she give the word, he would grab her  

Conversation between both parties was awkward and stilted. Almost two hours passed, with less than ten words between them, when Stark finally broke. 

“You ever been to Vegas, Lewis?” 

“Uhh,” she blinked, shoving her glass up her nose. “Nope.” 

“Alright, we’re going to Vegas,” Stark said. “If we’re gonna do this whole--” he waved his hand around in the circle in the space between them--”thing then we’re going to need alcohol and distractions.” 

Loki didn’t know what or where “Vegas” was and Darcy wasn’t looking very convinced by the suggestion. 

“Come on,” Tony urged. “It’ll be a great father/daughter bonding trip. No, scratch that. That sounds too weird. Look, we could do what Pepper suggested to me, a nice dinner, awkward conversation until we’ve had a couple glasses of wine, enough to get the emotions going. Maybe cry a little, sing a couple rounds of Lean On Me, you’ll tell me how great your dad who raised you is and you don’t need me to replace him, I’ll tell you how shitty my father was and I probably wouldn’t have been the best father anyways going by his example, crying, hugging, yadda yadda yadda, part as awkward friends who only really keep in touch with a christmas card or…” Tony paused, his lips twitching into a smile that Loki thought looked very similar to one of Darcy’s expressions. “We could skip all that, go to Vegas, consume too much alcohol, gamble, let paparazzi snap some photos of us because you know they want to, and maybe, just maybe, we’ll end the weekend as actual friends. Sound good?”

Loki watch Darcy consider the idea in silence, her lips folding together as she debated his offer. “Sounds good,” she replied. “Let’s go.”

.

.

.

.

.

The Vegas trip more or less became known as Darcy’s “Coming Out” party in the media. Her debut on society as a Stark. It was a brilliant plan. Tony was the type of father the media expected him to be--hip and fun and slightly inappropriate considering he took his daughter to her first burlesque show. For some reason, the masses were enamored with the idea of Darcy being the apple that didn’t fall far from the tree, pictures showed her dressed up, looking beautiful and having a great time on the arm of dear old dad. The pair of them made quite the team. 

Loki, of course, wasn’t invited along which disappointed him. He did so love a bit of mischief and from what he read, Las Vegas could rival one of Aegir’s festivities. It was impossible for him to accompany Darcy and Stark, considering that the magic that concealed his hiding place on Midgard prevented him from leaving the reach of their little New Mexico township. 

It was two days later when Darcy returned home. Loki heard the approach of the helicopter and the arrival of the new Lady Stark. The shouted thank-yous to her attendants floated up to his room. Loki was stretched out in his bed, reading in solitude. Due to the absence of Darcy, Thor, and Jane Foster, he’d been alone for the first time in a long time. He glanced at the clock near his bedside table. It was just after midnight, still early for him. 

The handle of his door rattled and he snap his book shut, cocking his head to the side when a familiar face poked through.

“Knock, knock,” Darcy greeted, peeking inside. 

“I’m not certain that is how it works,” Loki replied, trying to sound as annoyed at the intrusion as he possibly could. 

He didn’t want to admit it--and certainly never would--but a part of him missed her. In the two days that she’d been absent, he’d lost any real source of stimulation within his life as a glorified prisoner. He hadn’t had her around to gode into argument or mock for her taste in music or force him to eat horrible Midgardian foods. She was a constant thorn in his side and once removed, he found he missed the feel of her pricking at his skin.

“I don’t care,” Darcy quipped, strutting into his chamber. She was barefoot, dressed in a rather fetching black cocktail dress. Her hair was wild and remnants of glitter still winking between the strands. 

Loki cursed when she hopped up onto his bed, knowing the tiny slivers of gold and pink would covering his sheets, impossible to remove.

She sat on her knees, a bright smile coloring her face, cheeks pink with alcohol and happiness.

“Vegas was amazing,” she said. “I’ve been pretty much drunk for three days.” 

“I’ve heard the songs sung of your glorious revelries,” Loki told her. Darcy’s smile dropped in confusion and he smirked, enjoying the sight of her expressive reactions. He’d missed that as well. “I saw reports in the news.” 

“Ooooh,” she hummed, scooting closer so that she was seated next to him, her back against his headboard, legs stretch out in front of her. Loki’s treacherous eyes followed the smoothness of her legs from thigh, to knee, to ankle. A particular warmth began to simmer beneath his stomach. “So, did you manage to stay out of trouble while I was gone?” 

“There isn’t much trouble to be found in this desolate place.” 

Darcy’s brow flicked up. “Really? Maybe you’re not trying hard enough.”

“Are you encouraging bad behavior?”

“Me? Nooooo!” A Cheshire grin unfurled across her cheeks, eyes darkening playfully. The mischief in her smile was incredibly fetching, Loki found himself mirroring the expression.

“The city of sin has made an impression on you, I see.” 

“It was pretty awesome,” she sighed, stretching her arms over her head. “Everyone just wants to have a good time and forget about their troubles. Not a care in the world.”

“Did you forget your troubles?” Loki inquired. “It seems counterproductive.” 

“Between the boozing and the games and parties, Tony and I worked it out,” she explained. “We’re friends. I’m an adult. I don’t need a dad in my life and we both know he’s not really father material. So..it’s cool.” 

“Cool,” Loki repeated, the foreign colloquialism rolling over his tongue. “I must say, I’m disappointed that you’ll not be needing my assistance in some sort of rebellious revenge plot. I do owe Stark for thwarting me in New York.” 

“Sorry, I chose to solve this one without bloodshed,” she patted his hand that lay on the jade colored comforter between them. “Maybe next time my man of mischief.” 

Her hand on his stalled and she thread her fingers between his. Her fingers were small and plump, a contrast to his that were long and thin. Her palm squeezed the back of his hand. Watching their hands together, Loki heard her draw in a deep breath. 

“Look, I know this is a little out of bounds but..” her eyes flicked up to his and he stilled himself, not even daring to breathe. In the low, golden light of his lamps, her eyes swirled a deep and lovely ocean blue. A color he would be more than happy to drown in. “I’m still a little drunk enough to do this and I’ve just been feeling a lot emotions both good and bad and frankly I could use a little human contact. So…” 

She moved carefully toward him, and Loki remained frozen in anticipation for what she was about to do. Her face moved near his cheek, his lips close enough to whisper secrets against hers. But her head continued down, until it was settled against his chest. Her arm wrapped around his waist and she snuggled into his side.

Loki peered down at this strange creature, pressing herself so willingly against. It was frustratingly innocent. She was mad for thinking she could invade his privacy and space. He was mad for allowing it. 

“Darcy,” he stopped himself, not recognizing the tender heat in his own voice. He cleared his throat and began again. “Darcy, I believe you requested human contact.” 

“I did,” she mumbled against his shirt, her fingers pressing the flesh at his side. 

“I am not human.”

She snorted. “Just shut up and cuddle me.”

Loki hesitated a few breaths more before he slid an arm around her back securing her into her place at his side. His nose dipped down to her hair, breathing in her warm scent. Within a few moments, her breathing evened and it was clear she was lost to sleep. It was still too early for Loki to rest and with this enchanting girl pressed into him, he found himself very awake. 

He read, while she slept, one of her legs eventually moving and hooking around one of his. Cuddling wasn’t something that Loki had ever been fond of when it came to bed partners. With Darcy he found it to be an exquisite kind of torture. Forget the pain that Odin had sentenced upon him when he’d been returned to Asgard, it would have been far more effective had the All-Father used this girl as a means to invoke punishment for his sins.

It was a few hours before dawn, when Loki finally felt the call of slumber falling upon him. Darcy had barely moved, every now and again grasping him tighter or shifting or murmuring in her sleep. He laid his book aside and switched off his lamp, carefully moving down the bed so that he could lay flat, with Darcy still fixed upon his chest. 

Taking a chance and shoving down his doubts and fears, he wrapped his arms around her, fingers trailing against the skin of her arm. She hummed at his touch, making him smile in the darkness. Loki closed his eyes, taking comfort in the thump of her heart against his body, and the feel over her in his embrace.

Darcy said she needed contact and Loki hadn’t realized until that very moment, it was something he’d been in need of as well. 

For once he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. The best he’d experienced in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, SURPRISE...there will also be a third part! I don't know if you guys remembered in the first part that I said I'd started writing something then scraped it. Well, I figured out a way to use that to round out this small story. Hopefully that is good news :)
> 
> I know some of you mentioned wanting to see the showdown with Tony and Darcy. I did too! I thought of some scenes and dialogue, but then realized that because this is a Tasertricks short, too much Tony/Darcy time might bore some readers. So I thought perhaps I could add in a deleted bit once everything is done...cool? 
> 
> And lastly, if anyone is curious about Darcy's Vegas dress...here is what I was imagining http://www.collagevintage.com/2015/12/black-swan/?crlt.pid=camp.p7U2eO9rRzGE
> 
> OH! And I know a lot of people have different Vegas experiences, but I went over the summer and was definitely in the camp of this is a pretty cool place with lots of great vibes. Everyone I met and interacted with was just fun and having a great time :)
> 
> Thanks for reading and comments are super appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think this will pretty much round it out folks. Thanks for reading! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said in the first chapter that I'd written something, scraped it, and then wrote the actual first chapter? Well the beginning of this is what I'd originally scraped so YAY for writing coming back from the dead :)

Rescue was not his thing. He was no hero, no knight in shining armor, riding upon noble steed in a blaze of honorable fury to rescue maiden fair. When the call to action came, Loki was not in line to storm the castle with the rest of gallant heroes.

As they suited up and armed for battle an underlying tension kept them all sharp and silent. They all knew this would happen eventually, in spite of their precautions and preparations. Darcy was a target, the moment the world found out who she really was, and it was only a matter of time before some fiend pressed their advantage.

It was only a matter of time before she was taken.

.

.

.

.

.

Loki loomed in the corner, wanting no part in the revels the rest of them were enjoying. Thor clapped the Barton on the back, congratulating him on a successful attack, as if it were nothing more than sport. It wasn’t unusual for Thor to celebrate in such a way, basking in the glow of glory with his brothers and sisters in arms. This time it made Loki’s teeth grind.

Tony raised his glass of scotch in toast to their brilliant rescue. Even Foster was joining in with a drink and a celebratory smile.

Loki sneered at the lot. His fingers flexed, palms tinged red with rage sizzling at his fingertips. A flick of his wrist and he could silence each of them against their hollow victory. The fools.

“Ass kicking of the century!” Darcy’s deep, warm laughter followed the glowing assessment of her saviors.

He chanced a look at her out of the corner of his eye. It had been almost two days since the heroes had returned her to their home. She’d spent time in the small med-bay with the finest and most discreet doctors Starks money could buy.

The location of their secret home hadn’t been compromised; Darcy had been stolen while traveling with Foster. They’d been rushing to a connecting flight in a distant airport. The two women had split for mere moments and Darcy was snatched away.

“Those goons are so lucky I didn’t have my Taser on me,” Darcy boasted, the purple bruise under her eye catching the light.

“Tis’ true,” Thor agreed in a booming voice. “I can speak from personal experience. The foes would have been no match for you then.”

 “Aw, thanks big guy.” She turned to give Thor and affectionate pat on the arm. Barton went for a high five, which proved to be difficult, thanks to her drink in one hand and the other arm caught in a sling.

Darcy downed the rest of her drink in one swallow, slammed the glass down, and slapped Hawkeye’s hand. The archer laughed in admiration.

Tony beamed. “That’s my girl.”

Loki slammed his hand into the wall. He couldn’t bare their smiles and jokes any longer. The attention of the room snapped in his direction. He may not have had Thor’s muscle, but he possessed a more than average amount of strength in his fist that left a crack in the drywall. His eyes locked with Stark then Barton then Foster then Thor, and finally, Darcy.

It was too much. He faltered.

He swept from the room, leaving the others to their ridiculous merriment. He wanted no part in any of it.

The farther he went the faster he walked, punching his thumb against the button on the wall to call for the lift. The foul contraption was painfully slow as it moved him down to the underground labs. For the second time in as many days, he cursed his inability to truly leave the grounds.

When the doors finally slid open, he was met with gray light from the hallway. The labs were closed down for the past few days in light of Darcy’s kidnapping. Stark had been unsure if one of the grunts working under them had something to do with the incident.

The low-lit lamps lining the walls cut sharp, flickering shadows across his cheekbones. Each measured step he took gave no indication to the turmoil churning in his stomach.

Loki strode into Foster’s lab. Ironic. He spent most of his days in the lab, dreaming of escape, and there he was seeking it out as a refuge from the party above.

He stepped around the high-top workspaces and stools, Foster’s handmade equipment, until he came to the space Darcy had carved out for herself. In a place where everything appeared official and sterile, her area stood out like a sore thumb. Galaxy patterned notebooks, colorful pens, her laptop full of stickers, the spare pair of headphones that were only for lab listening. They were purple, they surrounded her ears when she put them on, and Loki hated it whenever he saw her pull them out of the drawer below her tabletop.

She’d shut out the world and hum along with whatever horrible music she chose to listen play. Such an aggravating noise, her humming. The girl had no sensitivity to tone or pitch. Loki would sneer at the sound of her singing under her breath and pray for a meteor, a fire, even Ragnarok itself if she would just be silent.

He’d been staring at those headphones when they were alerted to Darcy’s disappearance. Something had torn within his heart when he thought he might never hear the terrible sound of her humming ever again.

Loki plucked the headphones from her desk, clutching them in his fist. His hand shook as he squeezed and he didn’t realize tears had formed until he watched a drop fall and splash over the back of his hand. He cried out and threw the headphones at the glass divider between labs. The glass was strong, it didn’t smash, and the headphones smacked against the window and fell limp to the floor.

Magic rumbled through him, rolling out from his chest to the tips of his fingers and toes, until he let it out in one mighty burst. Bright orange light flashed as a wave of destruction erupted from his body with a mighty shout. Lab tables and chairs went flying, equipment shattered into nothing more than electronic bits, notes and papers caught fire and turned to ash on the ground.

His fury settled ever so slightly at the outburst, tears carving wet, angry paths down his cheeks.

“Loki?”

He turned, head heavy on his shoulders, and stared at Darcy standing in the doorway. He hadn’t heard her coming down the hallway to witness the remnants of his rage. He’d meant for it to be a private moment, cleaned and put away before anyone was the wiser to his tumultuous emotions.

His breathing stuttered…he’d seen the video feeds of her recovery, when she was dirty and bleeding, cradling her arm to her chest, brown curls sticking to her smudged and tear-streaked face. She looked better now than she had when they’d pulled her from the fight and terror, but the evidence of her suffering was still visible on her body.

He reacted to the sight of her bruised and curious face, doing the only thing he could think to do under the circumstances. The thing he feared he’d never be able to do the second he’d heard she was taken. The thing he’d wanted to do the moment he’d known she was returned. Loki rushed toward her, reaching for her, using a hurried sort of care for her injured body as he slipped his palms behind her head and lowered his lips to hers.

Darcy jolted in surprise and shock, but he held her still and soon enough she melted into the kiss, her body sighing into his.

Loki couldn’t remember a time ever kissing anyone with such desperation or affection in his heart. In the days of his youth, women were sport, mischief, and conquest. As he grew old, the novelty of sex and lust had faded, and he preferred time spent alone than chasing what some thought of as love.

Loki tilted her head, slipping his tongue past her lips, wanting to taste her more fully. He damned his heart and its unfortunate timing. Frigga had once asked Loki why he’d never taken to any of the women who sought his favor, the way Thor had. She knew Thor--his cavalier and glory-seeking ego wouldn’t settle for any one woman’s affection. But Frigga knew Loki’s more serious and practical mind when it came to matters of the heart.

His mother had told him that practicality would fly far, far away when the right woman came along. Whether it was the next day or hundreds of years hence, some person would win his favor, and all sense of right, wrong, good, evil, strength, and weakness would be rendered obsolete.

He’d protested, of course, swearing that he would never allow his heart to overrule his mind.

Darcy’s hand grasped the material of his shirt just at his stomach, twisting the fabric into violent wrinkles and pulled him closer.

 _Why now?_ Loki thought. Why was it this girl that his opened his heart? A fragile mortal, with a limited number of years, her life but a blink compared to his. A girl who could be snatched away so easily from him in a mere second, when he was powerless to protect her in his current state of imprisonment.

Loki bit against her lip and growled into her mouth, disturbed at the memory of how impotent he felt when she’d been kidnapped.

“Whoa, hey,” Darcy whispered pulling back just a bit. She bumped her nose against his. “I’m all for things on the rough side but…”

Her eyes flicked down, a subtle reminder to her injured state. The reminder did nothing to quell Loki’s frustration.

“I wanted to go to you,” Loki told her, words spilling from his mouth. “As soon as I heard those vile miscreants had stolen you away, I wanted to run to you and burn the hearts from their chests for daring to hurt you.”

Darcy’s eyes fell shut and she sucked in a deep breath, a small smile gracing her lips. “I’m sure there’s something romantic in that deeply violent statement. And I appreciate that.” She opened her eyes and looked at him. “If we’re making confessions…this is so stupid—“

For a moment, Loki thought she meant the foolishness lay in what they were doing; holding each other as they were, saying the words they were saying. But then he realized that she was simply embarrassed by what she was about to say. Which made Loki anticipate her words that much more. He’d laid his heart bare and didn’t desire to be out in the open all alone.

“When Thor run in and I saw Barton behind him, I wished,” Darcy paused, gathering her courage. He felt her hand squeeze the fabric at his stomach where she was still holding onto his shirt. “I wished you were there. Which is impossible, because of concealment spell—“

“Damn the spell!” Loki said in a near shout. “I should have—“

“No, you did the right thing. And I was just scared and being stupid. I’m braver than that. And besides…thinking about coming back to you was what kept me brave.”

“I don’t understand,” Loki replied.  
  
“Come on,” she grinned, rallying her courage. “I totally have a thing for you. I mean up until a couple minutes ago, I thought it was pretty one sided but—“

Loki caught her lips again, muffling the rest of her revelation. He wasn’t sure he was ready to hear the details of her affections for him. He wasn’t even fully at terms with his own feelings for her. The myriad emotions warring within him were gentled by her kiss and silenced by the feel of her hand sliding up his chest and wrapping behind his neck.

His racing blood begged for more. Fantasies of stripping her down and acquainting himself with every part of her burned through his trickster mind. But he knew due to her injuries, enjoying each other fully would have to be saved for another time.

Truthfully, he was content to keep kissing her. The longer they kissed, the calmer he felt. His heart raced however his mind was quieted with the comfort that she was back in his presence and safe within his arms.

“I should probably get back upstairs,” she sighed.

“No,” Loki asked, tugging her hand back toward him. “Please.”

He was truly horrified with himself, begging her to stay. He shouldn’t need her comfort, but he did, and thankfully the prideful part of him was put down by his need for her.

Darcy tilted her head, considering him for a moment. “Okay,” she agreed. “Truthfully, I’m tired. I’d rather just go to bed.”

“Do you have any objections to being in my bed?”

“I have zero objections to being in your bed,” she responded, biting her lip in a way that clouded his better judgment. “But I’m kinda not...really…up for _that_ at the moment.”

“You daft girl,” he scoffed.

Loki wrapped a hand around her waist and held her close as he teleported them to his bedchambers. She flinched, unaccustomed to such type of transport, but it was over before she had time to be truly scared. Loki smirked realizing that the short trip resulted in her holding onto him even tighter, her delicious curves pressed into his slim frame.

“Come,” he beckoned, leading her by the hand.

They settled on his bed, tucked together, similar to the way they’d fallen asleep after she’d come back from her trip to Las Vegas with Stark.

Darcy nestled into his chest and Loki made sure her broken arm was elevated safely so she would not cause herself pain whilst she slept.

“Jane’s going to murder you when she sees the lab.”

“It will all be taken care of before she even sets foot underground.”

Darcy’s eyes fell shut and she murmured contentedly as Loki swirled absent patterns over her back with his fingers. He could feel the beating of her heart against his body, the rhythm lulling him into relaxation. He was still angry with himself, with the others, with the ones who took her, but he could let the anger go for now and concentrate on her in his arms.

“I knew you liked cuddling,” Darcy grinned into his chest.

“Silence,” Loki commanded with a secret smile and pressed a kiss into her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know we're all pervs and maybe a little disappointed by lack of smut, but this was more of a comfort fic to me, so I decided to leave the smut out this time.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for reading this and the comments and kudos. You guys are super!
> 
> Maybe check out my Tasertricks one shot The Curse...if you haven't yet. It was born from another tumblr prompt and one I'll be expanding on a bit :)


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